Spell Check

by Julie Wright

  Also by Julie Wright

  Death Thieves

  Hazzardous Universe

  The Magician’s Last Words

  The Fortune Cafe

  The Boardwalk Antiques Shop

  Loved Like That

  Spell Check

  Julie Wright

  Spell Check

  Copyright ©

  2014 by Julie Wright

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any reference to historical events, real people, or real locales are used as fiction in the work. Other names, characters, places and incidents are all a product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual events, locales or people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Design by Jules Hartman

  Cover image by Marcin Sylwia Ciesielski/shutterstock.com

  Published by Heart Stone Press

  St. George, Utah k12

  Printed in the United States of America

  First printing: June 2014

  ISBN: 978-1-941849-00-2

  Dedication

  For Scott Wright, who spends tireless hours making sure my dreams come true. I hope he knows he is my greatest dream come true.

  Table of Contents

  Spell Check

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Note to self:

  Never trust girls named

  Lisa Snoddy.

  It is a little known fact that witches are alive and well in Salem, Massachusetts. They call themselves cheerleaders. Seriously. The Salem High mascot is a witch. It’s on the stone marquee outside the school: Home of the Witches. Talk about nailing it.

  My best friend was the exception. I supported Kristin when she tried out for the team, but didn’t believe she’d get on because she wasn’t like them. She was like me. And people like me didn’t mix with people like them. Some might call it oil and water, but it’s more like water and grease fire.

  She made the team.

  And that was how I found myself on my sixteenth birthday reenacting the Salem Witch Trials for a video the cheer team was making for the student council’s website. We’d gathered to the old cemetery for the reenactment. The graveyard had some amazing trees—gnarled and bent and sinister looking enough to believe they once held the weight of a swinging body from their branches. Some of the other girls shot nervous looks over their shoulders at the night noises. They obviously weren’t enjoying the idea of creeping around ancient headstones after dark this close to Halloween.

  I didn’t mind the way the moon filtered pale light through the tree branches, casting shadows that looked like demonic hands clawing their way over the graves. Halloween had long since lost its ability to frighten me. My birthday and Halloween were inextricably linked. And it was hard to be afraid of the theme of almost sixteen years’ worth of parties and presents.

  Though the location didn’t cause me any fear, the girls were another story. They terrified me.

  They insisted I play the part of the accused girl in the trial reenactment, using the excuse that I’d done a great job acting the part of the witch during the school play Into the Woods.

  I bit my tongue to keep from remarking that my stage performance was nothing compared to their lifetime performances. As often as my path crossed with theirs, I did a lot of tongue-biting.

  “I shouldn’t have worn my play costume,” I said to Kristin. To ward off the late October cold, I wrapped my arms in the elaborate cape Grandma Peterson had sent me when she’d heard I got the lead. Pale blue and white embroidery embellished the dark cloth, like thousands of starbursts and galaxies swirling in the field of midnight. I loved my cape, and though it seemed like a good idea to wear it at the time Kristin asked me to come, the very real possibility of it snagging in branches filled me with dread.

  Kristin gave me an encouraging smile as she tried to wrap her auburn hair into a bun at the back of her head for that puritan look. When she smiled, the curve of her lips and cheeks moved the freckles on her face so that it looked like someone made a dot-to-dot big dipper on the left side of her face. Her freckles were cute. “Ally, how many times do I have to tell you, you look great? That’s why they picked you for this.”

  I snorted at that. “They picked me because they’ve discovered a new way to humiliate me.”

  “Oh stop. They aren’t evil.”

  Her insistence made me sigh as we watched the cheerleaders busy themselves doing whatever they needed to do to hang me. We’d had this same argument at least a dozen times a month.

  “No, not all of them,” I agreed. “But some of them are.” They really weren’t all evil. Some of the girls on the team were beyond sweet. I glanced toward the faux puritan hoard. None of the sweet ones, except Kristin, had shown up tonight—only the nasty ones. Lisa Snoddy was in fact the queen of evil. How she acted like some goddess when her name evoked images of kindergarten kids during cold and flu season was beyond me. She tossed back her chestnut mane of hair and laughed at something said in the cluster of girls dressed like pilgrims. As a blonde, I testified that blondes did not have more fun. More like blondes were made fun of.

  Lisa had hated me since the first day I’d moved to Salem in third grade. Kristin had been her best friend, but Lisa was a miserable kind of person, and they were in a fight when I showed up. Kristin latched onto me as her BFF replacement.

  Lisa didn’t like me claiming her best friend as my own. It was later that day when the math teacher called out my name, Allyson Katrine Peterson, that Lisa nicknamed me Ally Kat.

  There were also the rhyme nicknames—latrine instead of Katrine—things like that, but Ally Kat was the preferred. It had been the name to stick—the name these girls had no problem calling me to my face. We focused on the tree where they tied off the ropes.

  “Remind me why I’m doing this again?” I whispered. Lisa had no reason to invite me to something with the potential to be cool. She could’ve had any one of her friends play the part. She could’ve played the part herself. Lisa asking for my involvement made me nervous.

  “It’s a chance for you guys to get along. It’ll be fun.” Kristin’s breath came out in little wisps of steam like the curls of smoke from a brewing cauldron.

  “So why isn’t Lisa playing the part of Bridget Bishop if it’s going to be so much fun?”

  Kristin just shrugged, probably because she didn’t get Lisa’s motivations either.

  It seemed that with everything I attempted to do, Lisa ended up as my direct competition. She’d been out for blood since losing the star role of the witch in the school play. She had wanted that for herself and felt insulted by the world in general when she’d ended up in the lesser role of Jack’s mother.

  Amanda detached herself from the hoard and sauntered our direction wher
e she handed Kristin some money. “We need dry ice. Go get it.”

  There was no “please” or asking if Kristin wanted to run to the store for dry ice. When the Snoddy clingers gave an order, people just did what they were told. I moved to follow Kristin to her car.

  Amanda stopped her. “Not you. We’ll need to start filming before she gets back. We still have the party tonight. We don’t want to be late, do we?”

  The school council was hosting a Halloween costume party. They held it on a Tuesday because they wanted to make sure as many people came as possible. Halloween was on the weekend, and with Salem being the hub of Halloween activity, everyone would have prior commitments. Amanda couldn’t have cared less if I was late or not to the school party, giving me every reason to worry as she nodded towards Kristin to get going.

  After sending me a parting look of apology, Kristin did as directed. My heart rate sped up as her car moved away from the cemetery.

  I was on my own with the vultures.

  With Kristin gone, Lisa looked at her cell phone to see the time. “Where’s my mob? I told them to be here already!” She stormed over to where Amanda and I stood. “It’s getting late. Let’s do the close up on the hanging shot, and we can film the mob scenes after people show up.”

  I was in enemy territory. Only a small handful of people had shown up at the cemetery even though Kristin said everyone would be there. And everyone who had gathered was part of the Snoddy clingers.

  And they were discussing how to hang me.

  “Maybe we should wait for Kristin.” I tried to keep the desperation out of my voice. Showing weakness to Queen Snoddy and her clingers only gave them more power. “After all, the scene would look better with some dry ice fog.”

  They ignored my protests and suggestions as they tied a thick rope under my armpits. “You’re too heavy for us to lift you. You’re going to have to climb the tree, and then let us lower you from the branches.” Lisa pointed to the tree—barren from having shivered off all its leaves over the last few weeks of colder weather.

  I ignored Lisa’s jab about my weight. I wasn’t fat, but I was twice the width of any of their stick bodies. Who wanted to be skinny like that? A person would have to either not eat or throw up just to end up being the width of an underfed worm.

  The rope went up the back under my cape and tied around my neck in a noose so it would look like I was really hanging from my neck, though all the weight would be taken in my armpits. I started climbing the tree, cursing myself for not standing up to Lisa and saying I’d changed my mind, and praying the cape of my costume didn’t catch in any branches and snag. How would I explain the need for a repair to my grandma? Of course, maybe if she needed to repair the cape, she’d come for a visit after all. She’d been planning on visiting from Sweden for my birthday but cancelled at the last minute due to some “emergency” she had to handle. Mom complained about how unlikely it was for an old woman to have real emergencies that didn’t involve their health.

  I planted my feet on the branch I was to hang from and lowered myself to a crouching position. “Here?” I asked.

  Lisa and her Snoddy clingers all grinned up at me. The grins looked malevolent—showing too many teeth. I wondered if Bridget Bishop’s real mob had looked anything like the cheerleading witches of Salem High. “Perfect.” Lisa motioned for her cronies working the ropes to get into position. “Lower yourself down.”

  With an inward groan, I did as told, feeling the tension of the rope against my armpits and around my chest as I lowered my weight onto it. Going along with them might make things easier for the times when Kristin invited me along to parties and other stuff that involved the cheerleaders, so I needed to do this. Lisa’s grin widened like the waxing moon when the rope was tied off and my feet dangled in the empty space between the branch and the ground.

  The camera was rolling.

  “Okay guys,” Lisa said, pointing. “Action!”

  “I am innocent as the child unborn!” I gurgled, trying to appear strong and strangled at the same time.

  That was when several colors of silly string hit me square in the face. Some of the string got into my mouth. Shaking my head free of the tangles of neon color, I realized the “mob” below me was the real deal. Everyone, except Mary holding the video camera, had a can of silly string aimed at me.

  “You’ve been punk’d!” Lisa Snoddy said.

  “Punk’d! Punk’d!” The Snoddy clingers chanted, and started spraying again before throwing their empty cans to the ground and laughing.

  The heat of embarrassment and disbelief raced up my neck and over my face.

  A joke.

  I was, once again, Lisa’s joke. “Are you kidding me?” I shouted, spitting out rage and silly string from my mouth. “Oh for—no one even says punk’d anymore! Not even my mom. You said this was for the website! Cut me down!” I tried to reach up, but the branch was just high enough that my fingertips only grazed the bark. I kicked my legs and flapped my arms while the witches cackled in a circle beneath me with their phone cameras clicking.

  “Oh, it’s so going on the site.” Lisa’s tone indicated this was not a good thing. “Nite-nite, Ally Kat. Don’t worry; we’ll call the fire department to come get you out of that tree.” She came in closer so that she stood apart from the others and whispered loud enough for only me to hear. “You might be one of Kristin’s friends. But you aren’t, and never will be, one of us. Let this be a reminder that you need to stay out of my way.” She turned on a heel and marched down the grassy slope to the street where her car was parked. The Snoddy clingers all followed as though being pulled like magnets to steel. Not one of them bothered to pick up their trash.

  “No way! You guys are not going to just leave me hanging here! Hey! Lisa! Hey!”

  They kept walking.

  Chapter Two

  Note to self:

  Never wear socks with holes.

  You’ll be sorry, Lisa Snoddy! Sorry! Do you hear me?” I screamed to the cold night air. “I wish everyone saw how ugly you are inside! And all your stupid clingers would get horrible runny noses from hanging out with the snoddiest witch in Salem! And your boyfriend would finally realize what a complete HAG you are, so he can leave you and go out with a real person for a change!” The air crackled with electricity and lightning flashed above me. A sharp wind buffeted against me, making me swing like the pendulum of a clock.

  “No! Not rain!” Not now. Not on my birthday when I’m hanging from a tree. But the skies were empty of clouds, and the stars paled in the moon’s glow. “I wish you’d just d—” I wanted to wish Lisa dead, but the words felt like they were strangling me in my throat. “I wish she’d just d—” I sucked in air hard, worried for a moment I might really be choking, but oxygen continued to flow in and out of my lungs. The words simply refused to come out.

  Irritated and shamed to my toenails to be in this stupid situation, I reached into my pocket for my phone, intending to call or text for help. But with the swinging motion and the awkwardness of trying to dig the phone from my pocket, the phone dropped to the ground, smacking against a rock hard enough to make me cringe. I cursed Lisa some more and prayed my phone still worked.

  Mom’s money was tied to her new age shop, Under the Moon, so I had to buy my own phone, saving up from working after school stocking shelves, cleaning, and ringing people out. Please let it not be broken!

  It took a good twenty minutes before the adrenaline and fury wore off enough for me to feel the biting cold of the night. I kicked and screamed for help and said things that would make my father laugh and my mother ground me for a year. My arms went to sleep. When Kristin’s car pulled to the side of the road at the bottom of the hill, I actually started crying with relief.

  And then he got out on the passenger’s side. Jake Warren.

  In most schools, the most desirable male was the basketball star or the football captain, but in Salem High, Jake ruled the hearts of females everywhere—including mine. Jake w
as an anomaly. He played chess, took his kid sister trick-or-treating, was involved in Harvard Model Congress, and already had a full ride science scholarship for when he entered Harvard. And he was breathtaking. Seriously. So. Beautiful.

  He had dimples when he smiled wide, and he had perfect teeth. He must have been better-behaved when he wore his retainer than I had been with mine.

  It was like the planets aligned the day he was created and blessed him with perfect DNA.

  And all that perfection belonged to Lisa. Well, sort of. They weren’t official as in exclusive or anything—not yet. But everyone knew Lisa had plans for the two of them.

  His vampire costume must have been bothering him, because he fidgeted with his black cape and ran his fingers through his slicked back dark hair while he waited for Kristin to get out of the car. I’d have sighed over his hot-ness if I wasn’t so horrified to be caught hanging from a tree by my armpits. I didn’t bother to call out. No desperation to be rescued could induce me to bring Jake’s attention to me while silly string dripped off my body. I tried to brush it out of my hair while their backs were turned, wanting more than anything to disappear, but after Kristin looked around a moment, seemingly confused, her jaw dropped. “Ally!” Her scream filled the streets of Salem. “What happened?” Kristin dropped the paper bag she’d pulled out of the backseat. It likely held the dry ice she’d been sent to fetch. Kristin and Jake ran to the base of the tree, scanning the area and the ropes which held me. They asked questions, repeated questions, and acted panicked in general.

  Well, Kristin acted panicked. Jake acted rational.

  “Ally! What happened? Where is everyone?” She tugged at a rope, accomplishing nothing since the ropes were all taut with my weight. “What happened?” she asked again.

  “Lisa happened. Just get me down.” How could I explain this in front of Jake?